17x09 - The Christmas List

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(THEME MUSIC)

(CHRISTMAS MUSIC PLAYING)

Remember, lads, big smiles.

The constabulary needs
to put on a good showing.

Do we really need to do this, sir?

- It's not our job.
- It is today.

We're spreading cheer.

(SIGHING) Spreading Christmas cheer

for Christmas or for
Gleeton's department store?

It could be fun.

Surely it's about making memories.

Sir, did you know that every
department store in this city,

including Gleeton's, has
their own Santa Claus?

The wee nippers probably
can't tell the difference.

We've completely lost the
true spirit of Christmas.

Here, ring the bell!

Maybe that'll help you find the spirit.

(BELL RINGING)

Sir, is it supposed to
sound like an awful racket?

They're tuning their
instruments, Higgins.

- Hey, you got a light?
- Should an elf be smoking?

Not my problem. Oh!

Much obliged.

A little whisky to warm my soul.

- You want some?
- Uh... what?

Indulgence is what
Christmas is all about, sir.

Not when you're on the job.

Everyone!

The parade is about to begin!

Move to your appointed positions!

(BELL RINGING)

(SCREAMING)

What the devil's going on now?

He's dead.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Come on, please. This way.

Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately,

the Christmas parade has
been cancelled for today!

Please return to your homes.

He seems to have been bludgeoned
in the back of the head.

Right.

Watts, is there something...

There is... something
inside of his mouth.

It's money.

And there's...

... a handkerchief.

It reads "naughty".

Perhaps the k*ller
thought he was no good.

Oh. This is one Clarance Barnes.

Now, that name sounds familiar.

He's a landlord. And not the good sort.

We've had several complaints

about the state of his properties.

My parade!

I've been working on this for months.

How could this have happened?

Yes, you're the event organizer, uh...

Mr. Wes Tallyford.

You need to find who ruined my parade.

Ruined your parade? Wes,
a man has been m*rder*d.

Sir, do you have an idea
who might have done this?

Gleeton's rival, Mr. H.H. Fudger.

- From Zimpson's department store?
- That's the one.

Those two have had a dreadful
back and forth for years now.

You think he would resort to m*rder?

To rain on our parade? He surely would.

The body was found on your sleigh.

Other than yourself, did
anyone else go near it?

Yes. Uh, the elves,

uh, reindeer, Mr. Tallyford, uh...

Oh! And that robust
police chap over there.

So, did you notice anyone
lurking around today?

There have been people
milling around all day.

I didn't see anyone getting
onto the sleigh until Santa did.

When was the sack placed on the sleigh?

The sack was already there
when we arrived this morning.

So, the body was likely put
into the sack last night,

or early this morning.

Did you see anything out of place?

Your silly little hat
looks out of place.

- It's not very festive, is it.
- (FANFARE MUSIC PLAYING)

- Sir, what time was it that...
- I'm sorry. What was that?

- I said what time w...
- Could you come again?

What time...

Give me...

- (DRUMSTICKS CLATTERING)
- (MUSIC STOPPING)

Now, what time was it
you got here this morning?

There was an incident this
morning at the Christmas parade.

Yes, I heard.

Serves Gleeton and his
garish parade right.

Ah, yes. I understand the two
of you have quite the rivalry.

Oh, I wouldn't call it that.

He is a money-grubbing
cur who has been stealing

my customers for years with
lies and false advertising.

Did you know Clarence Barnes?

He was found dead this
morning in Santa's sleigh?

(SCOFFS) Santa's sleigh?

His so-called Santa wears a fake beard.

Our Santa has a real beard.

- Please answer the question.
- (SCOFFS)

Gleeton would say it was me.

He takes any opportunity
to besmirch my name.

Oh, his obsession with me is...

- Well, it's almost flattering.
- Mm.

Of course I didn't do it.

Look at me! I am a dignified man.

I would never trifle in
such, such brutish matters.

Where were you last night?

Oh, if you must know,

last night, I was having a
dalliance at the ice sculpture show.

- With?
- A lady friend?

- Who?
- Hm.

It's quite the scandal, really.

I trust I can count on your discretion.

Mr. Fudger, I am this close
to tossing you in our cells.

Miss Margaret Wynward.

Of Wynward's department
store in Vancouver?

- One and the same.
- Hm.

We'll have to confirm with her, then.

All right, Mr. Fudger.
You may go for now.

I'll contact you if I
have any further questions.

Oh. When you have some time,

you should bring your family
down to our Santa's grotto.

You won't be disappointed.

(SIGHING)

Right, everyone! Gather
round, gather round!

I've decided that this year,

we're going to do a
secret gift exchange.

Everyone pulls a name out of the hat,

keeping it to yourselves, of course.

And then, you buy that person a gift

costing no more than three dollars.

Sir, brilliant.

Clandestine gift giving.

A Santa Claus who must give in secret.

We could call it Santa... Or a secret...

Uh, uh... Santa's... Secret of Santa!

Catchy.

Three dollars? That's exorbitant.

Don't be such a bloody
cheapskate, Murdoch.

On the other hand, three
dollars might not quite cover it.

(BRIGHT MUSIC)

Effie, you've transformed the place!

- You like it?
- And mistletoe!

You know what that means, George.

I do, indeed.

(DOOR OPENING)

- Effie.
- Mother!

I'm done with that man.

Have you had another fight with Father?

I never want to see him again!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Detective, you wanted
to talk to me, I take it

you have found the culprit
and recovered the funds?

The...

what exactly are you talking about?

The robbery?

The money stolen from our office.

It's $ , and Mr.
Barnes is sure to blame me.

I regret to inform you
that Mr. Barnes is dead.

It seems Christmas has come early.

I take it the two of you did not
have a pleasant working relationship.

Mr. Barnes did not have a
pleasant relationship with anyone,

working or otherwise.

We have heard some complaints.

Mr. Barnes, God rest his
soul, was not a good man.

Lawsuits, evictions, enemies galore.

Uh, what dispute was he
working on most recently?

He had a nasty argument with

a woman from St. Nicholas
orphanage down in the ward.

What was the nature of their dispute?

He was in the process of evicting them.

Those children were due
to be out on their ears

by December th,

just in time for Christmas.

Miss Hart.

Inspector. What can I do for you?

I drew Watts in the gift
exchange, but I'm at a loss.

Didn't you say yourself
that revealing the identity

of your gift recipient flies in the face

of the spirit of Christmas?

I don't give two hoots about that.

What should I get him?

Well, something nice, I suppose.

But what if it is too nice?

Will it be sending the wrong message?

(LAUGHING)

Why are you laughing? I'm
quite a good-looking fella!

Sir, just because a
bumblebee likes flowers,

it doesn't mean it will
alight on every blossom.

Why are we talking about flowers?

- Have I missed something?
- (CHUCKLING)

(LAUGHTER, INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Hm.

Everyone here seems to be
having quite a merry Christmas.

We can have Christmas
now. Santa read my letter.

Oh, it certainly is a miracle.

Miss?

Velma Joy. I run the orphanage.

(BOTH): Detective William
Murdoch and Detective Watts

of the Toronto Constabulary.

(CLEARS THROAT) We'd like a word.

Certainly.

Uh, we've learned from
Mr. Barnes' office that

this orphanage was on
the verge of eviction.

Where did you get the
money for all of this?

I found a thousand dollars
on my doorstep this morning.

But I've already sent my
employee, Miss Sarah Jenkins,

down to pay off all the
debt and stop the eviction.

A thousand dollars.

That's the exact amount that was
stolen from Mr. Barnes' office.

Did you steal the money
and k*ll Mr. Barnes?

- Watts! The children.
- What?

Heavens, no!

I did not even know he was dead!

The money appeared with a
red bow wrapped around it

and I assumed it was a gift.

Where were you last night?

I have been stuck here
for the past two days

with all of the children packing
for our impending eviction.

I did nothing wrong.

Thank you, Miss Joy.

We need to find out if that
debt was, in fact, paid.

Then I will go to Mr. Barnes'
office and see what I can find.

Effie's mother has
properly set up shop now.

I'm afraid there's no turning back.

Ah, trust me, you need to be rid
of her sooner rather than later.

Every time Ruthie's mother shows up,

they always leave me as the third wheel.

Well, I've tried! I've
tried to convince her

she should return to her husband.

I mean, it's the holidays,
they should be together, right?

Do you think it worked?

She may have listened a little bit.

One thousand dollars was
stolen from Mr. Barnes' office,

and then the same amount
was delivered to the doorstep

of Velma Joy.

Perhaps money is the key.

But that's so impersonal.

I'm sorry, sir?

My gift for Watts.

Murdoch, have you not been
listening to me at all?

Isn't Watts Jewish?

Not in practice.

Still, I don't think
he celebrates Christmas.

I still have to get him a gift.

Mrs. Potts...

Barnes' receptionist claims
that no one has been by

to pay off the orphanage's debt today.

- So, Miss Joy was lying?
- Perhaps not.

On a hunch, I asked for
a description of the woman

with whom Mr. Barnes had his argument.

Mrs. Potts said she was a
young woman with dark hair.

This was just a preliminary
sketch I was working on.

But then I realized
that description fits

Miss Joy's employee, Sarah Jenkins.

So, Miss Jenkins could
be the woman in question?

That would be my guess.

Then we'll need to speak with her.

(PHONE RINGING)

Feel free.

- (PHONE RINGING)
- But...

Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

Right. Thank you.

They've found another body.

You two go ahead.

I'll find this Miss Jenkins.

Watts.

Sir. In here.

Good lord.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Mr. Fladdius Grimes, a local loan shark.

Sir, this ledger was on the desk.

It appears to contain
a list of his debtors.

And both of his kneecaps
have been broken.

I've heard that that's what
men in his line of work do.

- Mm-hmm.
- Poetic.

Oh!

Miss Sarah Jenkins!

It seems she was also
in hock to Mr. Grimes.

Quite the coincidence.

All right, Henry, let's get
the body down to the morgue.

Yes, sir.

Apparently, Mr. Grimes'
brand new automobile

has been stolen from the driveway.

A flashy red number.

Another theft,

just like the first victim.

And the only person that
seems to be connected

to both of them is Miss Jenkins.

George Crabtree!

How could you?

- What did I do?
- It is completely unacceptable

to thr*aten to throw my
mother out of our house.

- I did no such thing!
- Well, Mother says you did.

And who are you going to
believe, me or Deirdre Newsome?

It's a toss-up.

Effie, all I did was encourage
her to make up with your father.

I said that the holidays
were no time to hold a grudge.

Mother's arrival has thrown a
bit of a wrench in our plans.

It's our first Christmas
in our new home.

We should be spending
it together. Alone.

Well, she is my mother.

We'll have to figure it out somehow.

Miss Jenkins, we've now
connected you to both victims.

You got into an
altercation with Mr. Barnes

a couple of days prior to his death.

And you're in debt to Mr. Grimes.

The orphanage is my home.

They took me in when I
had nowhere else to go.

Then why steal the
money Miss Joy gave you

to pay the orphanage debt?

I didn't steal it.

I was on my way to pay it off
when I heard of Mr. Barnes.

I figured he didn't
need the money anymore.

So I was taking it
to Mr. Grimes instead.

- But then you k*lled him?
- No, of course not.

When I got there, there were
police everywhere, so I left.

Do you have an alibi for
your whereabouts last night?

I was on a night-time stroll.

- I'm not an easy sleeper.
- Can anyone confirm that?

No.

But I swear on my life

that I did neither
of those men any harm!

I'm sorry, Miss Jenkins,
but we're going to have

to place you under arrest.

(GASPS)

Mr. Grimes was k*lled with a swift blow

to the back of the head
with a blunt object.

Exactly like Mr. Barnes.

Well, the wounds are quite similar.

Likely the same k*ller.

You've enjoyed some of the finest
things that life has to offer.

This is an odd turn.

Um...

What's something a lady
might like for Christmas?

Oh, I'm sure Julia would do well
with a nice bottle of Sherry.

(CHUCKLING) Yes. She certainly
loves her libations, sir.

Any other suggestions?

I really couldn't say.

I'm not much interested
in Christmas at all.

Not even the gifts?

Peace and quiet is the
only gift I'm seeking.

I've found something.

Is that a handkerchief?

There's a note.

It reads... "Naughty".

It seems someone has taken
Santa's Christmas list to heart

and punished the naughty

and rewarded the nice.

(LAUGHING)

Hey!

Ah!

Oh, God. I'm next.

Next what?

I think I am going to be the
next name on the naughty list.

Henry, don't be ridiculous!

Well, he is after the naughty,

and as you and your liver pie know,
I have done some very bad things.

You're the one who ate
my liver pie last week?!

Please George, focus!

Henry, I'm busy.

I've got to make this right.

Sir? (KNOCKING ON DOOR)

George? What's the matter?

Sir, what do you do when a guest,

who you didn't invite
in the first place,

refuses to leave your home
when you're trying to have

a romantic Christmas
holiday with your new wife?

That's rather a specific question.

Uh, I suppose you try to enjoy

the holiday with said guest.

Because you have a
rather large house, sir...

I've found the automobile, Detective.

- Does it belong to Sarah Jenkins?
- No. (SNAPS FINGERS)

It would just be for a short while.

(SIGHING)

Pardon me, young man.

- Did your parents purchase this car?
- No, it's from Santa.

It's a gift so that we could
see our father for Christmas.

You wouldn't have seen him otherwise?

Well, he works in Parry Sound

and Mother said he wouldn't
make it back this Christmas.

But now that we have a
car, we can go to him.

Mm.

And when did Santa drop this car off?

It wasn't there in the morning,

but it appeared after
lunch... like magic.

Miss Jenkins was already in our cells.

(BALL BOUNCING)

(SIGHING)

I'm releasing you for the
time being, but don't go far.

- Good day, Detective.
- Oh! Hello, ladies.

What are you doing here?

Well, I thought since
the parade was cancelled,

we might take Susannah to see Santa.

- I respectfully decline.
- Huh.

I respectfully decline your decline.

Julia, what does Santa Claus

have to do with the birth of Christ?

Just get your coat, William.

(COOING)

We're gonna go see Santa.

Dr. Ogden?

Uh, here. It's a Christmas
gift for Susannah.

Oh!

Well, how thoughtful of you.

Thank you, Henry.

Well, I do love children.

Shall we?

Come on.

(CHUCKLING)

A day late, a dollar
short, I'd say, Higgins.

Oh, shut up, George. I...

mean, I am but a servant of goodness.

Hm.

(BRIGHT MUSIC)

Oh.

Apparently, this is the
only place in the city

where children can leave
their letters to Santa.

(CHUCKLING) Isn't that adorable?

Twenty-five cents to take
a photograph with Santa.

It's preposterous! (SIGHING)

Reach down deep within

and find your Christmas spirit, William.

I fear that may be long extinguished.

Christmas is becoming
nothing but a cheap façade,

and Santa Claus a con
man that takes money

from little children and leaves
them with nothing but disappointment.

(CHUCKLING)

Here you are, sir.

What's all this about, Higgins?

- Why are you bringing me milk?
- It's posset.

Posset? I'm not a sickly child.

- There's lots of rum in it.
- Oh!

Say no more.

Mm.

Ooh, it's good.

It's very good.

What have you done this time?

What do you mean? I'm
just being nice, sir.

Nice is not your nature.

What's going on?

Just spreading some Christmas cheer.

Something's rotten in
the state of Denmark.

Did you find a dress
for the concert tonight?

No. I'm afraid we'll have to miss it.

I went to the box office,
and they said it's sold out.

I already told you, I
bought us two tickets.

Two. We need three, one for Mother.

I still don't see the issue.

George, we can't leave her at
home alone in such a fragile state.

Effie, it's a few hours! She'll be fine.

Absolutely not. We're missing
the choir and that's that.

(SIGHING)

Thank you for the car, Santa.

Well, you are very welcome, son.

I'm glad that I could help.

Ho, ho, ho, ho.

Danny, do you remember me?

- Detective Murdoch.
- Yes.

Um, when you wrote your
letter to Santa about the car,

did you put it in that mailbox?

Yes! You tell him your Christmas wishes,

and then they come true.

Thank you.

William, what is going on?

Julia, I believe Santa
Claus may be the k*ller!

What!? William!

Pardon me, Mr. Nicholas.

Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

I need you to come with me.

Ho! Ho! Ho! Hello, son!

Well, now, what do
you want for Christmas?

Get up or I will force you up.

Ho, ho, ho! How about a shiny new badge?

- Boop!
- (LAUGHING)

All right. That's it.

Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho! (EXCLAIMING)

Hey! Hey! Ah! Hey!

(EXCLAIMING)

Help!

Don't look.

What are you doing to Santa?

Just need to ask him a question!

- You can't put him in jail.
- I never said that!

You're ruining Christmas!

Oh! (GRUNTING)

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

- All right. You're coming with me.
- What?

But I didn't do anything!

- Help!
- Move it!

- (DOOR OPENING)
- Well, no Santa for us.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

You are very definitely
on the naughty list.

Those children are scarred for life.

You resisted arrest.

And you destroyed Christmas
for those youngsters.

You admitted to delivering
that car to that lad's home,

one that had been stolen
from a m*rder*d man.

I was just playing along. I don't
know anything about a m*rder.

What about the orphanage?

- What orphanage?
- Don't play games with me.

The children of St. Nicholas orphanage

wrote you to save them
from being evicted.

Then they receive a large sum of money.

I had nothing to do with that.

Look, months of my life

I'm a blacksmith in Picton County.

One month a year, I play Santa Claus.

If I had the money to buy
roadsters and save orphanages,

do you think I'd be
doing what I'm doing?

Truth be told, I don't
even read the damn letters.

(SIGHING) I knew it.

- What?
- Nothing.

You're a fraud.

I'm a man with a job,

one I work hard at
every day. Ask anyone.

Now will you let me go?

I'm not in the business
of releasing K*llers.

I didn't k*ll anyone!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

How goes it, Ebenezer?

Santa still in the cells?

He remains the most viable suspect.

And what about the
children waiting for him?

I'm sure Mr. Gleeton will
just hire another one.

What do you think about wristwatches?

They seem quite
practical, actually. Why?

I'm thinking of getting Watts one.

I hear they're all the rage.

- But I wonder...
- Wonder what?

Would you consider a wristwatch jewelry?

Oh.

Ah, well, I suppose.

If one wears an adornment,

it's jewelry.

Yes, but it remains a suitable gift,

although these are much
more than three dollars.

(DOOR CLOSING)

Ah, my very own Ebenezer Scrooge.

You've been speaking with the inspector?

No, but if the shoe fits.

- Where is Susannah?
- I just put her down.

I'll kiss her good night.

Did you bring her a lump of coal?

(CHUCKLING) Witticisms abound.

(LAUGHING)

(SOFT MUSIC)

"Dear Santa Claus, do the
misdeeds of my parents

affect my position on the nice list?

I myself have been a picture
of niceties all year long,

and I hope to see the rewards
of that with a bandalore.

With sincerity, William Murdoch."

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

Could you imagine
hearing Handel's Messiah

- live and in person?
- Yes.

Well, there's always next year, George.

Gingerbread. Get it while it's hot.

No, thank you, Mrs. Newsome.

It gives me terrible indigestion.

Well, more for me and Effie. Darling?

Mother, you know I
don't like gingerbread.

Well, your father loves it.

Oh, he really does.

I'll just... I'll just throw it away.

Would it have k*lled you to try one?

Uh, yes, it might have!

It gives me terrible indigestion.

- You said, George.
- Severe indigestion, Effie.

(SIGHING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR) Sir.

Thank you, Henry.

Best of the season to you, sir.

What are you up to?

Um, two deaths so far have
been linked to these letters.

I'm looking for the
next possible victim.

Could you use some help?

Well, certainly. Thank you, Henry.

Ah, my pleasure.

Look for any mention of

people who have been... naughty.

Yes.

You know, sir, this Christmas
has rattled my nerves.

One wonders what the
holiday is coming to.

I couldn't agree more! It's shameful.

- Where's your mother?
- She won't leave her room.

Well, why don't you take her out
shopping? That'll cheer her up.

George, what would cheer her up
is my father coming to get her.

- Then ask him to.
- He would never. He's very proud.

Then we'll give him a reason to.

Come with me.

Come on.

You sure this is a good idea?

What do you want me to do?

- Well, just root around.
- Root around?

- Yes, root around!
You're, you're discovering

the wonders of a new planet.

- How do you propose I do that?
- Oh, just root around.

- (CLATTERING)
- There we go.

- (CLANKING)
- Excellent!

This will get your father
here tout de suite.

Most of the letters were
unopened, sir, except for these.

This one is complaining
to Santa because her father

doesn't make enough money
to buy her what she wants.

And this one? He's
asking for an automobile.

Children don't know
what things cost, sir.

They should learn that the important
things in life don't cost a thing.

Well, I suspect that's a
lesson lost on most of us, sir.

Most of what I make, I spend
on Ruth and it's never enough.

I swear sometimes it's...

But heck! It's Christmas.

Hang on, sir. Have a look at this one.

It's a letter from the orphanage.

Ah, yes. That's from little Tina

asking Santa to make
Mr. Barnes disappear...

It seems Santa granted her wish.

He certainly did that.

Anything you'd like to say?

- I've never seen this before.
- It was opened.

And, as I told you, I
don't read the letters.

Well, then, who does?

I didn't think anyone did.

Well, then how do children get
what they want if you don't...

Of course. You're not real.

Can I leave now?

You can leave when
this matter is resolved.

Can I get you anything?

Milk and cookies?

Do you have anything stronger?

I'll see what I can do.

(DOOR CLOSING)

I must confess, this season
never gives me much joy.

- You're a Scrooge as well?
- Excuse me?

Charles Dickens? A Christmas Carol?

You read Charles Dickens?

- What's wrong with Charles Dickens?
- Oh!

Well, I've never been one for fiction,

but fiction combined with
Christmas themes is just too much.

Well, I share the same feelings.

I've never been one for the holiday.

- Not even as a child?
- Oh. Especially as a child.

My father was always running one
scheme or another during Christmas.

It usually ended up in us being on
the run before the day even came.

Hm. (SPITS)

So it's hard to miss what you never had.

All it is for me is another day

complicated by the fact that
you have to buy someone a gift,

and if you don't buy the right thing,

- they'll judge you for it.
- Oh!

Don't worry, Miss Hart.
I don't want for much.

- I'm not buying for you, Llewellyn.
- Oh.

- But I do know who is.
- Is that so?

- Are you curious?
- Well...

Help! Anyone! Help!

There's something going
on over at Gleeton's!

I was just closing up for
the evening and I saw this.

Ah, Detective Llewellyn Watts
with the Toronto Constabulary.

- Are you all right?
- (MUFFLED SPEECH)

Right, right.

- Ah, thank you.
- Let me guess. Naughty?

Mother?

Mother, really?

- What's she doing?
- Leaving.

- Well, she can't do that!
- Why?

Because your father might be on the way!

Mrs. Newsome, please. You can't leave.

Well, where are you even going?

My sister's. I'm not welcome here

and I won't stay where I'm not wanted.

How can you say that? I want you here.

Uh, please, Deirdre, I want you to stay.

I want you to be... To
be happy for Christmas.

- Isn't that right, Effie?
- Yes! That's right.

What could be more important

than being with family at Christmas?

Did you just say family Christmas?

Did you just say that?
A family Christmas?

When Perry isn't here?

Oh! Please.

Do you ever think before you speak?

- Mother?
- No.

- Mother?
- No.

- He didn't mean that!
- Oh, for the love of Saint Stephen.

Who did this to you?

I didn't see.

He hit me from behind.

And what can you tell me about this?

Whoever clobbered me
jammed it into my mouth.

Who is Amanda Blake?

She's a student of mine.

Ah.

We received this, Mr. Lark:

"Please, Santa, I have been
ensnared within the clutches

of a horrible monster
named Mr. Perigrew Lark.

He takes pleasure in being horrible

and making children cry.

Most recently, he has stolen
my favourite spinning top

right before Christmas,

- and I am anguished."
- Huh.

Oh, this is funny?

That is the best piece of writing
Amanda has produced in some time.

Why would she call you a monster?

I admit I am a teacher
who runs a tight ship,

but I am certainly not a monster.

Then why would she write this?

I repeatedly told her that she
could not bring her toys to school.

She wouldn't listen and brought in
this terribly annoying spinning top.

So, I confiscated it.

- That's all?
- That's all.

Hm.

Certainly not actions
punishable by death, or...

Have a Merry Christmas, Murdoch.

Well, you as well, sir.

- Off home?
- Not quite yet.

- Oh. Mass?
- No.

I'm going to stop by
the Blake residence.

The k*ller tends to reward the nice.

Perhaps I can catch him in the act.

Not much of a Christmas Eve.

Oh, I'll be there on the day.

- I'll go with you, sir.
- Oh!

No, thank you, Henry.
It's Christmas Eve.

Crime doesn't take a break
for the holidays, sir.

What's going on with you, Higgins?

Nothing.

Ever since this
Christmas k*ller came out

you've been acting like a decent person.

Something tells me that somebody
thinks they're on the list.

Just doing my job, sir.

It might be too late to make amends.

Hang on, sir!

I'm coming.

Two months before Christmas,

Ruthie provides me with a
list of objects she desires.

They're ranked and itemized.

It's my job to find them.

Last year I had to
write to Paris, France

for a scarf, if you can imagine.

Why does a woman like Ruth,

who presumably has
everything, need a gift?

Well, everyone likes surprises, sir.

Well, it's hardly a surprise
if it's ranked and itemized.

Well, everyone likes a present.

- Not everyone gets a gift.
- Look, sir.

- Is that a spinning top?
- It appears to be.

You there! Elf!

Toronto Constabulary.

Stop!

(RHYTHMIC MUSIC)

(CHOIR SINGING)

(EXCLAIMING)

(GRUNTING) Help!

Help!

This man is under arrest.

Go about your business.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

♪ Deck the halls with
boughs of holly... ♪

Very good, Henry!

Thank you, sir.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

I'll get it.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Mr. Newsome! Thank God you're here.

- (DOOR CLOSING)
- Come in.

- You got the pictures?
- What pictures?

The pictures of the aliens.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I've come to see my wife.

What do you want?

I want you to come home.

Why?

Because it's Christmas.

Because you're my wife and...

- Because I love you.
- Are you sorry?

I took a coach all the way here.

Of course I'm sorry.

He's sorry.

He's sorry.

Oh, darling. (CHUCKLING)

Okay. (CHUCKLING)

Now you two enjoy your
first Christmas alone

and I'll go get my bags.

Now, what was this
you said about aliens?

Perry?

I suppose it can wait.

(CHUCKLING)

You don't see what I see.

- Could you clarify that?
- I see greed.

I see evil.

I see plenty of both.

Well, then, you know greed
and evil are always rewarded.

Well, that's not always true.

If that's the case it's
because of men like you and I.

You and I are nothing alike.

You arrested Santa Claus.

Because I believed him to be a criminal.

Santa's no criminal.

He rewards the good and
punishes the naughty.

And he wasn't doing his job.

So, you took it upon yourself.

I'm Santa's little helper, yes.

Well, then, you are
under arrest for m*rder.

On Christmas Eve.

It's so gracious of you and
George to have us in your home.

I would have thought you'd
want to have Christmas alone.

Oh, we had Christmas alone. Many times.

Yes, it's quite striking,
Inspector. Thank you.

That cost more than three dollars!

- What about the rules?
- Sir?

Such a stickler for rules.

You had me, George?

- This is for you, sir. Yes.
- Oh.

- Open it.
- Ooh.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Rather extravagant, don't you think?

- Don't worry, darling. I haven't forgot you.
- Oh!

Oh! Jewelry. Oh! It's beautiful.

- It's not bloody jewelry.
It's a practical timepiece.

Nothing more.

Aren't all adornments
some form of jewelry?

- No!
- Yes!

No. Definitely not.

Uh, George, what is this?

Sir, it's an electric toaster.
It has various settings.

It will cook your bread to perfection...

- on both sides.
- Oh, that's ingenious.

- Oh, I wish I'd thought of that.
- Thank you.

Uh, and here you are, sir.

Oh, you didn't have to get
everyone a gift, Higgins.

Besides, the k*ller's
already been caught.

Oh! Well, I know that, sir, but

it was too late to return them.

Much appreciated.

A scalpel. Ha.

Your husband's an
infinitely practical man.

I should say. When we were courting,
he gave me a b*llet extractor.

- (LAUGHING)
- You never know.

Oh, William. This one's for you.

Oh, are you sure? I've
just received a toasting...

- Thank you... Device.
- I believe this one is from Santa.

Santa?

Oh.

It's a bandalore!

I've always wanted one of these.

Julia, how could you have known...

I think Santa might have
finally got your letter.

- Thank you.
- All right, everyone.

I'd say we can do a little bit better

than that silly Christmas concert.

- Can't we, George?
- Yes, indeed we can.

(SOFT PIANO MUSIC)

♪ God rest ye merry gentlemen ♪

♪ Let nothing you dismay ♪

♪ Remember Christ our saviour
was born on Christmas day ♪

♪ To save us all from Satan's power ♪

♪ When we were gone astray ♪

♪ Oh tidings of comfort and joy ♪

♪ Comfort and joy ♪

♪ Oh tidings of comfort and joy ♪

(LAUGHING)

(♪)